


Gimme a Break(room)

by mnemosyne23



Category: Lost RPF
Genre: F/M, Hats are sexy, Quick and Dirty Sex, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-17
Updated: 2006-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1199895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemosyne23/pseuds/mnemosyne23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom's accessories finally push Emilie over the edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gimme a Break(room)

"Nice hat."

Dom glanced over his shoulder and grinned from under the brim of his newsboy cap. "You think?" He turned around, sweeping his fingers round the brim and tugging it low over his eyes. "I was thinking of getting a second job as a paper boy. You know, to pay the bills. Support my extravagant lifestyle of sex, alcohol, nicotine and whoring."

Emilie giggled and leaned against the door jamb of the costume closet. "Aren't whoring and sex the same thing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"To the unlearned perhaps. To the rest of us, sex is an art form."

"And whoring?"

"Papier mache."

"Huh…" She moved deeper into the costume closet. "So, what… Sticky and hard? Or does your papier mache stay mushy and shapeless?" She glanced down, then up to his eyes again, a devilish grin on her picture perfect lips.

Dom's eyes glittered in the shadows under the hat. "I happen to be a papier mache master. Hard and well-formed, that's how my papier mache projects go. Hard, well-formed, fucking MIND-blowing bits of gooey genius." He winked.

"It can get pretty messy then, huh?"

"Never had any complaints yet."

She leaned in closer, crystal blue eyes smoldering. "And you get all the newspaper bits nice and wet first?" she purred.

Dom leaned down so they were nose to nose. "Dripping," he whispered back.

Emilie grinned. Then, with a little cackle of delight, she reached up and whipped the newsboy cap off his head. "Well, we can't have you doing that!" she trilled, plopping the hat on her own head and pulling it down at a rakish angle. "You'll wear yourself out with so much excess!"

"Here, give that back!" he barked, reaching out to snatch the hat from her head. Emilie giggled and danced out of range, hair falling in a golden ripple over her shoulder and down her back. "Look, Artful Dodger, that's my hat. I want it back."

"No," she chirped puckishly.

"You're on your way to a smacked bottom, young lady. Gimme back my hat!" He made a dive for her, but she laughed and pirouetted through the door.

"Hey!" Dom charged through the door after her, nearly colliding with Josh on the way out.

"Easy!" Josh laughed in surprise as the two men stumbled apart. "Where's the fire, cochese?"

"You seen an impish little blonde klepto with blue eyes and a mean disposition go running past here?" Dom asked.

"What, you mean Emilie?"

"She took my hat!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! Little minx. Which way'd she go?"

Josh jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Atta way."

Dom nodded to him and took off at a dead run down the hall in the direction he'd indicated.

"You know, you two oughta just get a room!" Josh shouted after him. "I hear the broom cupboard's comfy!"

\-------------------------------------------

Emilie was wearing white today, but she felt scarlet. And NOT because Dom had been chasing her through the studio like a man on fire for the past ten minutes. Though she had to admit it was fun watching him puff after her, that look of righteous indignation on his face.

Perhaps it was their shared time on the island. Perhaps it was the onscreen chemistry. Perhaps it was the heat. Whatever it was, it was getting harder and harder to look at Dom and see him with his clothes on. She'd perfected the art of undressing people with her eyes during _Roswell_ , because honestly, with that many beautiful men standing around chewing scenery, there wasn't any reason NOT to. She thought she'd broken the habit, but that had gone out the window the instant she laid eyes on Dominic Monaghan.

THIS was going to be her onscreen love interest? Hallelujah, praise the Lord.

It was the hat that had finally broken the camel's back under a pile of straw. One look at him in that newsboy cap and she was finished. She knew it was just an excuse, but it was as good a reason as any to explain why she'd spent a good minute and a half swapping sexual innuendo with him in the costume closet.

Okay, the running hadn't been a good idea. She was hiding behind a door in the break room now, waiting for him to go bolting past, and her heart was racing like Seabiscuit at the Santa Anita. Her blood was pumping, her heart was thumping, and the adrenaline was making her fingers twitch. If she'd wanted him before, she REALLY wanted him now. This was incredibly out of character for her. She was usually far more subdued than this.

It was all the hat factor. She was going to blame this all on the damn hat.

"GOTCHA!"

She squealed with fright and shock at the sensation of hands on her waist, pinning her against the wall. She'd been so focused on trying to see through the crack of the door that she hadn't noticed Dom sneaking up on her from the OPPOSITE door, crouching low and pressing back against the food cupboards. When he stood up to meet her eye to eye, he was grinning like the cat that just got the cream. "Boo," he said cheekily.

"Bastard, you scared me!" she yelped, giving him a few solid whacks on the arm to allay her fright.

"Emilie, you were hiding behind an OPEN DOOR. Pull the other one, but you were more or less _asking_ to be found."

She squirmed against the wall, uncomfortable with how close to the truth he was getting. "I suppose you want your hat back?" she managed.

"That's right."

"Well take it then." She raised her chin haughtily, daring him to take it off her head.

He grinned even wider. "No."

Emilie frowned. "What?"

"I said no."

"What do you mean, no?"

"I want you to put it on me."

Emilie blinked. "What? Why?"

"I caught you. Tag, you're it. To the victor go the spoils. Blah, blah, blah."

"Oh, so you think I'm going to just give in that easily?"

He crowded her a little closer to the wall, leaning in dangerously close. "Yep," he rasped near her ear.

And started to tickle her mercilessly.

Emilie had always been ticklish; it was a fatal flaw. Her mother had often said that was where she got her megawatt smile: laugh practice. At one point or another Dom had discovered this trait about her -- just as he managed to find out EVERYONE'S weakness -- and he exploited it at every opportunity. Normally she was able to swat his hands away and run laughing to hide behind Jorge or Matthew or Josh. But her back was literally to the wall here, the open door hemming her in on one side, a row of cupboards on the other. There was no escaping, and Dom had LONG fingers.

"STOP IT!" she gasped through her laughter, squirming to get away from his hands. "Dominic! STOP!"

"Stop what?" he said, with big, innocent eyes, before ducking his hands deeper under her arms, grazing her rib cage and the sides of her breasts -- her most ticklish areas -- and making her squeal with fresh desperation.

"PLEASE!"

"The hat?"

"Yes, yes, fine! JUST STOP!"

Without warning, the tickling stopped. "All you had to do was ask," he said with a cheeky grin, giving her a wink. "Go on then. Put it on."

Emilie was still gasping for breath as she raised an arm to swipe a wrist across her watering eyes. "You're a true bastard sometimes, Dom," she panted, stripping off the hat.

"You forgot cocky and a bloody pain in the ass," he added as she tugged the hat down over his head. "Oh, and smug."

"Are you going to let me go anytime soon?"

"You just hold your horses, little lady, and let me have a good long gloat."

"Why would you want to gloat? It's such an unattractive trait."

He raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so now we get to the bottom of it."

"The bottom of WHAT exactly?" she asked, leaning her head back against the wall and raising an eyebrow.

"Why you took my hat."

"…And?"

"Because you find me dead sexy."

She almost choked, but hid her surprise admirably. "Dom, you're sweet when you're not being a complete dingo kidney, but that's all," she told him. "Now let me go."

"No."

"Dommm…!" she whined, squirming, but his grasp held firm. "They're going to be looking for us soon!" Her pulse was still racing from the running, and then the tickling on top of it. If he leaned much closer she was going to lose what little control she had left and attack him.

"I'm not letting you go 'til you admit it," he said, grinning. He obviously knew he had her trapped.

"Dominic Monaghan, you're a complete toad."

"Ooooh, talk dirty to me." He squeezed her hips, making her yelp and poke him in the chest.

"Quit that!" she exclaimed, though she wasn't sure if she was talking to him or to herself.

"What? This?" With surprising ease, given their similarities in height, he hoisted her up against the wall. Reflexively, Emilie's hands gripped his shoulders to keep from falling.

"Put me down!" She wiggled her feet limply against the wall, but he had a good point of leverage and she wasn't budging.

"Say you think I'm sexy," he repeated.

"Put me down first!"

"Say it, then I put you down."

"Dom!"

" _If you want my body, and you think I'm sexy_ …" he sang, eyes twinkling.

Emilie rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. SOMETIMES you're sexy."

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes. Like when you're not being a complete MORON, ie NOW."

"Huh…" He seemed to consider this; then, with a brisk motion, let her go.

Emilie cried out as she began to slide down the wall, and her legs wrapped reflexively around his waist to keep from falling. Her cry was cut short when he grabbed her again, cradling her up against the wall and leaning in close until their foreheads touched.

"You know, Emilie, I could stand here and trade witty barbs with you all day," he murmured huskily. "I really could. But when the sexual tension in the air is so thick you need a bloody chainsaw to chew through it, I think it's time for a little relief, don't you?"

For a second, she didn't know what to say. This wasn't exactly her forte. So it came as a bit of a surprise when she heard herself saying, "God, I thought you'd never ask," and kissed him.

That was the noun for it, of course: _kiss_. But the word didn't do it justice. True, their lips were mashed together, and his tongue was in her mouth, and their teeth scraped across each other with reckless abandon; but "kiss" just didn’t DESCRIBE it. They'd been filming for months together, isolated on Hawaii's north shore, living in close quarters, filming powerfully emotional scenes day and night… There came a point where all the friendliness in the world didn’t diminish the fact that you wanted to fuck the brains out of your sexy co-star, and you wanted to do it hard, and you wanted to do it fast, and you wanted to do it dirty and raw and elemental, to make up for the make-up you wore on-set everyday.

The fact that they were in the break room didn't appear to be an obstacle to him, and oddly enough, Emilie herself didn’t care. When they finally pulled apart, gasping, she reached down between them, frantically working at his zipper as Dom kicked out to the side, slamming their sheltering door shut. His hand rubbed up her thigh, pushing her skirt higher and plucking at her panties as she finally got him unzipped. The action was met by a pleasantly breathless moan as her hand brushed across the hot bulge in his boxers, and Emilie grinned. "Somebody's eager," she purred near his ear. Dom just growled deep in his throat, pushing the crotch of her panties aside and shifting her just enough to get himself in position.

Then he was pulling her down while he was pushing up, and oh FUCK, this felt good, oh FUCK, yes…

"Oh… Ohhhh god….," Emilie moaned, head lolling backward as her shoulders pounded against the wall in time with their hips. "Yesssssss…! Oh SHIT, yes…!" She tried to keep her voice down, to avoid drawing unwanted attention, but it was a losing battle. So she bit her lip to staunch her cries and dug her nails into his shoulders.

With a heave, he swung them to the side so that her ass was resting on the countertop above the cupboards. Emilie braced her hands on the counter, digging her heels into his tailbone and throwing her head back, gasping for air and finding none. Her head made sharp contact with the wall but she ignored the pain, focusing instead on how GOOD every other inch of her body felt.

"Fuck… fuck… fuck…" Dominic panted as he rocked against her, pressing his face into her throat and sucking the pulse point he found there. Emilie moaned and tunneled her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and rubbing her belly against his chest. "Oh, oh, oh., OH, **OH** …!" she whimpered, biting so hard on her lip she was certain she'd draw blood if she went much longer. She could feel that inevitable climax drawing closer; could feel it edging up on her like a shadow on an alley wall: not yet substantial, but inescapable.

Then, with a suddenness that truly left her breathless, she felt her body convulse and shatter, breaking into pieces and collapsing like a tent in a hurricane. She was aware of a garbled cry of, "Yessssssssssss…!" and it took her a moment to realize it came from her own throat. Her body spasmed, rippling away from the counter as her legs tightened around his waist. A few seconds later, she felt Dom gasp against her neck, his body stalling before loosening as he moaned, "Bloody hell…" against her skin.

They didn't move for a few minutes after that. Dom panted against her shoulder, while Emilie gasped at the ceiling, sucking air into her oxygen-deprived lungs and praying Evangeline or someone didn't wander through the OTHER door in search of a sandwich and a drink of water. She had no explanation for this except the truth, and she didn't know if the truth would fly when someone found out you'd just been fucking next to the Frigidaire.

"Was it good… for you, too?" Dom finally gasped against the side of her neck.

Emilie nodded, too exhausted to say much else. "I've been waiting… WAY too long for that," she confessed, rubbing their cheeks together and wrapping her arms around his neck

"Good things come to those who wait," he murmured, then chuckled. "I said _come._ "

She poked him in the arm. "Don't be crude, Dom," she teased.

He must have been floating on cloud nine, because he didn't bother with a comeback. He buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply, and they held onto each other like rocks in a river until their tremors subsided.

\---------------------------------------

When they were finally called on set later that afternoon, Emilie blamed her wobbly legs on mild food poisoning and Dom's foolish grin on a bet he'd won. She knew there were doubters, and those suspicions were confirmed when Dom handed her a photo the next morning in her trailer.

"What's this?" she asked as he held it in front of her while she brushed her shimmering hair.

"What's it look like," Dom asked, taking the brush from her so she could in turn take the photo from him.

"The break room," she said as he took over brushing her hair, feeling a nervous little twinge in her stomach.

"But what specifically."

"A…dent? In the wall?"

"From when you whacked your head." His hand ran gingerly over the slight bump that had formed on the back of Emilie's skull.

She winced, but didn't pull away. "Who…"

"Guess."

She didn't have to guess, because a glance at the back proved her suspicions.

_Told you you should have used the broom cupboard._

 

 

**THE END**


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